


Proxy

by BleedingInk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Consensual Possession, Demonic Possession, Dream Sex, Dreamwalking, Explicit Sexual Content, In The Lethe Easter Egg, It's a threesome in two bodies, Masturbation in Shower, Meg Lives, Megstiel - Freeform, Multi, Polyamory, Sappy Ending, Sastiel - Freeform, Threesome - F/M/M, True Form Sex, True Forms, Who knew there was an specific tag for that?, see if you can spot it, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 21:35:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11322210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingInk/pseuds/BleedingInk
Summary: Technically, he dreamwalked into my mind, Meg corrected him.Some of it bled into yours because we happen to be sharing a brain. Think about it as having noisy neighbors and very thin walls. But in this analogy, you get to come and your neighbor doesn’t because you woke up too soon.





	Proxy

Sam was dreaming.

He had been lying on his side, watching the scene unfold in front of his eyes for a couple of minutes before he realized he was dreaming. Amazingly, he didn’t wake up upon coming to that realization. Maybe because his body was still recovering of the strain the infection had put on him. Or maybe because the dream was far from unpleasant.

His bedroom in the bunker had doubled in size, big enough to allow another bed next to his. There was a man sitting there, naked, with his head thrown back in ecstasy while his fingers sank in the hair of the woman kneeling between his legs. Her head bobbed up and down, the muscles of her back arching and tensing with every movement.

It wasn’t a completely new occurrence that Sam had this kind of dream, especially if it had been a while without any sort of… intimacy. What was new, however, was that he wasn’t seeing this in first person point of view. He was watching two people go at it, but it wasn’t like watching a porno either. They were there, in his room. He could see them with pristine clarity, every drop of the sweat on their muscles, the flush of their skins. He could hear the hoarse moans coming out of the man’s mouth partially opened lips, the wet, sloppy noises she made every time she slid her mouth up and down her partner’s erection. He could smell them, too. It wasn’t the usual smell of sex and sweat, it was something else, something stronger and far stranger. His still asleep brain couldn’t quite identify it.

The only other experience that Sam could compare it to was walking in on Dean when he was busy with some girl he had picked up at a bar. Except that had been awkward and terrible and this… this was rather pleasant. Exciting, even. He could feel his own hardness against his leg, but once more, he couldn’t tell if that was happening to his body for real or if it was just in his dream.

The man put her hands on her cheeks and delicately pushed her away. They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, as if they were exchanging a sort of silent communication. She planted her hands on the mattress and stood up. Sam could see her long black hair cascading down her back, her round butt and long legs. She was rather short, especially compared to the man, who was standing up with her now and taking her in his arms. They kissed, open-mouthed and desperate, and he picked her up, spun her around and threw her back on the bed.

There was something wicked about the way she cackled. Something loud and bizarre, but at the same time… familiar. Sam had the impression he had heard that laughter before and that made sense in a strange sort of way. He had read the brain couldn’t make up new faces, so it just took them from different environments and put them in his dream. She might have been an actress or a stranger or a person he had encountered during a hunt.

But at the same time, he had the impression he had heard that laughter many times. In fact, he was perfectly familiar with it.

Through the cloud of arousal in his mind, however, he couldn’t put a name on it. And besides, things were getting interesting. Sam finally found it in him to move his hand to palm his cock over the boxers as he continued to watch.

The man knelt between her legs, caging her with his body and gripping her wrists above her head while he leaned down to kiss her neck. She arched her back up as she let out a cry of pleasure. The man, guided by her reaction, kissed her on the other side of her neck. Now that Sam could see what he was doing, he realized the man was leaving a hickie over her skin before he lowered his mouth and took one of her rosy nipples into it. Sam slid his hand beneath the fabric and gently began pumping his own cock.

A shadow moved above them. Sam couldn’t quite make up what it was, too distracted by their lovemaking and his own enjoyment to pay much attention to it, but as they continued to kiss, as the man delicately pushed her legs apart and slid into her, the shadows became clearer and… bigger.

They were wings. They looked tattered and almost burned as they sprang from the man’s back, but there were still black fathers clinging to it. Sam stared at them in awe.

The woman clung unto his back as the man started thrusting. Her hands were no longer small and delicate. In fact, it seemed her nails had grown several inches, becoming terrible claws that sank on his skin so deep they drew blood.

The man let out a moan and sat up, pulling her up with him. He wasn’t gentle like before, in fact, he was manhandling her rather roughly. She didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she was enjoying it as she opened her legs to accommodate over his cock and started riding him. His wings flapped and twitched with every movement and a warm, golden light began to glow underneath his skin. She was changing too: something black and scaly slithered in the bed with them. At first Sam thought it was a snake, but he realized it was a tail, coming out of her back and surrounding her partner’s lower back, almost like a loving embrace. She pushed hard against him and when she threw back her head, Sam saw a pair of twisted long horns growing among her hair.

Now Sam could tell what the scent was: smoke, thick smoke that came from her skin. The man, on the other hand, smelled like ozone, like the air thinning right before a storm. They smelled like fire and rain.

They opened their eyes to look at each other. His were shining bright and silver. Hers were pitch black.

Sam let out a long, involuntary gasp as the orgasm shook through him. He was still spilling his cum against his boxers, his hand still holding his shaft when he opened his eyes to the empty room. The scent of the demon and the angel with the broken wings copulating still clang to his nostrils, his heart was pounding hard and his chest heaved up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

But as pleasant as it all had been, a nagging feeling pull in the back of his head.

 _Really, Sam?,_ came Meg’s voice, filled to the brim with frustration. _You couldn’t last two more minutes?_

 

* * *

 

It was a strange feeling, sharing his body with a demon. Sam had been possessed before, by angels, and one time, by this particular demon. He could tell that the experiences were quite different.

With Lucifer, it was like being pushed back into a corner, paralyzed and terrifying as he tried to break free of his control, watching the things he did as if he was a mere spectator. Lucifer could just as well submerge him into a fantasy or completely shut him out, but he was a sadistic bastard. He liked that Sam had some room to wiggle and that ultimately had been fundamental for Sam breaking free and pushing him into the Cage.

Gadreel had been a little gentler. Of course, if he had been more forceful, Sam might have realized he was there, so of course he had always been careful when he took control over him. It felt more like a nudge, like being pushed down underwater and left to float there. It was surreal and disorienting.

Sam didn’t remember much of the last time Meg had possessed him. She had been rough with him, completely nullifying him while she ran rampant murdering and terrorizing people. Those two weeks were a complete black out to Sam, but from what Dean had told him, it hadn’t been pretty.

But that had been years ago. Many things had changed since. Meg had changed.

She’d offered herself to be Crowley’s punching back, to distract him while Dean and Castiel retrieved the Tablet. She had understood that Crowley hated her so much he would be distracted by killing her, giving the brothers and the angel a few precious extra seconds to run away. The Meg that had done that for them, that had freely confessed to Sam that she had found a new cause to serve in the form of Castiel, was hardly the same demon that had taken over Sam because she was pissed they had exorcised her.

That didn’t make it any less scary when one day, when Sam was doing something as mundane as picking up groceries, he had smelled the familiar reek of smoke and brimstone. Before he could react, the black column came sliding down his throat, almost choking him. He stumbled down and pathetically crashed against a shelf, knocking down several jars of peanut butter. The din of broken glass attracted the attention of the other costumers and the store’s employees.

Before Sam had time to adjust to what had just happened, there were several hands grabbing him and trying to help him get back on his feet.

“Sir? Are you okay?”

That was a very good question. Sam still had the disgusting taste of sulfur in his mouth and his nose and he had to suppress a heave before he managed to find his voice:

“Yes… yes… I’m sorry, I… I stumbled…”

He didn’t feel different. He flexed his fingers and moved his head only to make sure, but yes, he was still in full control of his body and his mind. But what he had seen and what he had felt had been real… or was they? Was he hallucinating? Unconsciously, he pushed into the old scar on his hand and closed his eyes, but when he opened them again, he only saw the same worried and curious faces looking at him.

“I’m fine,” he assured the small crowd that had gathered around him. “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure? Do you want us to call someone for you?”

“I’m fine,” Sam repeated. “I just… I think I’ll go home now.”

He took two steps towards the door when the employee called him again.

“I’m sorry, but… I’m gonna need you to pay for those,” he said, pointing at the peanut butter on the floor.

Sam paid with one of their counterfeit credit cards and almost fled the store. He sat on the Impala’s driving seat, his heart and his mind both still racing. What the hell had happened in there?

_Hello, Sam._

Sam sat very rigidly and looked at his reflection in the rearview mirror. He knew that voice.

“Meg?” he asked in a whisper.

 _The one and only_ , she said in his head _. Love what you’ve done with the place. It’s even crappier than the last time I was here._

 

* * *

 

Dean wasn’t happy about it, of course.

“A demon? Really, Sam? You’re letting a demon live inside of you? Don’t you think we already have enough problems?”

“It’s not _a_ demon, Dean. It’s Meg,” Sam argued.

“Oh, is that supposed to make me feel any better?”

 _Well, the devil you know…_ Meg muttered.

“How is this any different than when you let an angel you didn’t know possess me? At least this time I know what’s going on and I can choose to let her stay.”

“Come on, man…” Dean muttered, annoyed because he really didn’t have a good come back for that.

 _And this is all your fault for not getting a new tat, by the way,_ Meg added. She had wasted no time in going through Sam’s memories of what had happened while she was gone.

“Listen, she needs somewhere to hide,” Sam replied. “She’s right. If she possesses someone else, Crowley could find out she’s back.”

 _Besides, you won’t let me possess someone per se_ , Meg pointed out.

_We’ve talked about this. If you need to find a new meatsuit, it has to be one that is empty._

It was amazing how even as a disembodied voice in his head, Meg still managed to pout and puff.

“Yes, and _how_ is she back?” Dean asked, frowning. “I thought once demons were gone, that was it. Are you sure it’s her and not someone pretending to be her?”

_I’m going out on a limp here, but maybe it has something to do with the ancient, unspeakable evil you morons let loose._

“The Darkness?” Sam said, surprised. “You know about Amara?”

 _Amara? Is that what she’s calling herself now?_ Meg asked. _When I heard the rumors about her, they called her Sheol._

Dean was a little less reluctant to let her stay once Meg proved she had some information about their new enemy. Amara (or Sheol) was, after all, what Lucifer had reached into to create demons. And Meg was very old, even older than Crowley, probably one of the few older demons that remained now that Azazel, Alistair and Abaddon were all dead. Even so, the Darkness had been a legend for her as much as Lucifer or Lilith had been.

_She’s not a goddess, strictly speaking. She’s more like… a counterpart._

“A counterpart of what?”

_What do you think, Sam? If she’s chaos and destruction, what could possibly be her counterpart?_

“Creation,” Sam guessed, his eyes opening wide and the realization. “God.”

_Ding, ding, ding. God had to banish her to create the universe and everything in it. He could do it again, if you asked him nicely._

“So, all we need to do is find God and convince him to give a crap about us,” Dean groaned. “’Cause that worked out so well last time we tried it.”

Sam had no idea how they were supposed to do that. But he had an idea of who could point them in the right direction.

_Wait!_

Sam’s finger hovered over the call button.

“What is it?”

_Are you… going to tell him? That I’m back?_

Sam saw no reason not to do that, but he could feel Meg’s apprehension. It was a strange thing: sometimes he felt urges, anger or melancholy that he knew weren’t his, but they still affected him. He knew that last time she had possessed him she had been able to look into his mind, find out about his emotion and his thoughts. This time, it seemed to work the other way as well: he could feel her frustration, her alertness, her worry. Meg had never been the most open person… creature, so Sam took it as a sign of good will that she let him peak into her thoughts like that.

Right now, for example, he knew she was anxious because she didn’t think Castiel would give a crap about her being alive.

“That’s ridiculous. He cared about you.”

_Yeah, but he’s an angel. He’s programmed to care. He cares about you and Dean, too, even though you treat him like shit._

She wasn’t going to say the words, but Sam could guess easily what her concern was. She had called Castiel “her unicorn”. She had died for him. She had rarely felt that level of devotion for anyone, except perhaps her father or Lucifer. But even so, she knew this was something entirely different.

“He was really sad when you died,” he tried telling her.

_Was he? He doesn’t look it in your memories._

“Well, Castiel was always hard to read,” Sam pointed out.

Meg still wasn’t convinced.

“Look, even if I don’t tell him, he’s gonna know you’re there when he looks at me.”

_You don’t know that. I’m good at hiding._

“What’s the problem, Meg? Are you scared?”

Meg gave him the mental equivalent of a huff, but Sam was sure he had hit the nail in the head. She was scared, both of the intensity of her own feelings and about them not being reciprocated.

But she was also too proud to admit it.

_Make the damn call._

Castiel showed up in the bunker an hour after Sam hanged up.

“You said you had a clue about the Darkness…”

He stopped mid-sentence, frozen in the middle of the library the moment he saw Sam. His blue eyes grew wide and his lips opened in shocked.

“Meg,” he muttered.

For the first time since she had entered him, Sam felt her taking control of him to say:

“Hello, Clarence.”

Castiel’s face started lightening up.

“How?” he asked, advancing towards her – them. “It’s…”

“I swear to Hell, Castiel, if you say a miracle…” Meg interrupted him. She let out a chuckle that come out a little forced. “Sam, do you mind giving us some privacy?”

Sam wasn’t sure how they were going to do that, but he still thought: _Yes, of course_.

When Sam blinked again, he was sitting in on one of the tables. Castiel was gone and Meg was no longer controlling his body. There was something in his hand. It looked like a rope necklace with a pendant hanging at the end. It took Sam a moment to recognize it, though when he did, he didn’t know if it was because he had seen it or because Meg knew what it was.

It was the charm she used to wear around her neck. She’d had it on her when she’d died.

Castiel must have retrieved it after they left. He must have come back to look for her and kept it, even when he had become human and been homeless.

 _He was always a sap_ , Meg commented, but she sounded pleased.

 

* * *

 

Castiel seemingly showed up in the bunker a lot more after that. He had organized the angels and they were putting their heads together to find a way to either find God or banish the Darkness again without him. Sam and Dean kept hunting (Meg’s commentary during such occasions was uncalled for, but she proved herself useful in figuring out this monster or the other) and investigating as much as they could.

But whenever they were in the bunker, Castiel seemed to show up there as well. He always brought something for Meg: be it a magazine that then Sam had to lend her his eyes to read, or beer, and in one occasion, even a flower.

“If I didn’t know better, I would say you’re feeling guilty about something, Clarence,” Meg said through Sam’s voice.

Castiel lowered his eyes and it became instantly clear that he did feel guilty about something.

“Rowena has the power to re-open the Cage now, thanks to the Book,” he explained, to the horror of both Sam and Meg. “Lucifer and Michael have been…”

“Have you gone out of your mind?!”

Sam wasn’t sure if it was him or Meg that screamed that, but the feeling was mutually shared and amplified. Of course Meg would be scandalized at the prospect of Castiel working with Crowley and Sam didn’t think he could stand the thought of even risking Lucifer getting out again.

Castiel cringed and recoiled.

“Dean is considering it,” he confessed, raising his hands as if to defend himself.

“Of course!” Meg exclaimed. “And of course he wouldn’t tell us about it!”

Dean chose the worst possible moment to walk into the kitchen.

“Hey, what are you guys talking about…?”

Meg proceeded to chew him up with some choice words and insults Sam didn’t even know existed for the next fifteen minutes. Castiel could probably have stopped her, but he chose to stand aside with his hands in his pockets and literally look the other way. Sam also could have stopped her, but… he didn’t feel like it.

When Meg make a pause to catch her breath, Dean was thoroughly taken aback, but he still made an attempt to defend himself.

“It may be the only way…”

“You find another way,” Meg replied. “It’s too risky, Dean,” Sam added.

Dean looked at Castiel, as if he was looking for someone to tell him he was right.

“Maybe we should listen to them, Dean,” Castiel suggested, kindly. “If there’s anyone who knows just how dangerous Lucifer is…”

“And how are we supposed to…?”

“I don’t care,” Meg snapped. “You go anywhere near that cage – hell, I’m thinking we’re gonna have to kill the witch now. And why haven’t any of you idiots stabbed Crowley in the face yet, anyway? Have you learned nothing?”

She had a point there and Sam wasn’t about to argue with her. Dean chose the less intelligent path.

“He’s useful…”

That earned him another string of insults. By the time Meg was done, Dean’s face was red and his fists were clenched in rage.

“Fine!” he shouted. “Bitch!”

Castiel appeared right in front of him.

“I don’t appreciate you talking to her like that, Dean,” he said, lowering his voice an octave so it became a menacing growl.

“Are you kidding me?!” Dean asked. “So what, you’re like a thing now?”

Meg chuckled in Sam’s throat.

“Jealous?”

“I’m done!” Dean decided, throwing his hand in the air. “Done with all of you!”

He stormed out of the kitchen and Meg laughed some more in his wake.

“That was beautiful, Clarence.”

“That was… not how I was planning on bringing it up,” Castiel admitted.

But when he turned around, he was smiling despite Dean’s hostility.

“I guess he was going to find out sooner or later.”

“I guess so,” Meg replied, standing up.

They stood face to face. Castiel lowered his eyes, leaning in closer, and Meg licked Sam’s lip, very slowly. Sam felt his cheeks burning and immediately wished he knew how to do that thing when Meg pushed him to the back of his own mind and he blacked out.

But Castiel stepped backwards, quickly clearing his throat.

“I should go. We need to keep an eye on Rowena.”

He awkwardly turned around and fled the bunker without saying goodbye.

Meg let out a groan of frustration and retreated before Sam could ask her what had been the deal with that.

That was the day before Sam had the lucid dream about them fucking.

Castiel returned the following morning, looking mildly embarrassed. Sam was in the laundry room, throwing his boxers into the washing machine when Castiel strolled in and unnecessarily clarified Dean had let him in.

“I wanted to… apologize for… uh, disturbing your sleep.”

“So it was actually you in there?” Sam asked, with a cringe. He’d suspected as much, but Meg hadn’t answered his requests for confirmation until now.

_Of course it was us._

“Okay, why?”

_Because Clarence here thinks we shouldn’t do anything while I’m taking up residence in your abnormally tall body._

Sam couldn’t help but to wonder when had that exchange taken place. Maybe it wasn’t the first time that Castiel walked into his dreams to be with Meg, just the first time he realized it.

“I would not feel comfortable involving you in it,” Castiel confirmed.

“Okay, I get it.” Sam shrugged. “You want to wait until Meg is in a female meatsuit. That’s fine.”

Castiel squinted his eyes at him, as he did when he was confused.

“I… don’t care about that, Sam,” he replied. “You have an aesthetically pleasing body. Please, don’t feel self-conscious. It’s not that.”

Meg’s laughter echoed in Sam’s head while his cheeks burned red.

“I really don’t mind in which shape or form Meg is. Who she is for me doesn’t change,” Castiel continued, apparently unaware of the awkwardness. “But there is the issue of you, uh… consenting.”

Sam really didn’t know what to answer to that. He had consented to Meg staying in his body while she needed to lay low, but Castiel was right: this was an entirely different thing to ask from him. They would be using his body for something very intimate. And it being with Castiel on top of it…

“No, you’re right. It would be weird,” Sam agreed, with a cringe.

Castiel nodded, respecting his position.

“We will try to temper our enthusiasm so we don’t wake you next time.”

“Wait, there’s not going to be a next time,” Sam protested. “You’re not dreamwalking into my mind again.”

 _Technically, he dreamwalked into my mind_ , Meg corrected him. _Some of it bled into yours because we happen to be sharing a brain. Think about it as having noisy neighbors and very thin walls. But in this analogy, you get to come and your neighbor doesn’t because you woke up too soon._

Castiel’s face was one of pure sadness as he lowered his eyes.

“I apologize again. It was the only way we could be together until we have dealt with Crowley,” he explained. “But if you don’t wish us to attempt it again, we will stop.”

He looked so desperate that Sam felt a pang of guilt. He could understand the need to be with Meg. If Jess had miraculously come back to life, he too would have wanted to be with her at all costs.

_Aren’t we getting a little sentimental here?_

Sam sighed.

“Okay, fine, you can try it again,” he agreed. “But please try not to wake me.”

 

* * *

 

They woke him up again.

This time, the bed must have been conjured up by Meg, because it was a four-posts with red velvet curtains. Sam didn’t think Castiel knew enough about sex to come up with something that fancy. The curtains were thick enough that this time Sam couldn’t see directly what they were doing, but there was a bright white light coming in from the inside that projected their silhouettes into the fabric. Sam could make out Meg’s horned head and Castiel’s broken wings flapping, but little else, since they were melted into a tight embrace. Their shadows moved rhythmically over the mattress, their moans mixing with the obscene slapping of their skins.

The smell of fire and rain invaded the air.

Sam felt his dick getting hard, but resisted the urge to touch himself. If he woke up before they were done, Meg wouldn’t let him hear the end of it.

Luckily for him, it seemed they had almost reached that point. A hot white light flashed behind the curtains as two satisfied moans rose in the air. The mattress’ springs creaked when they fell heavily into it and the silver glow slowly became fainter and fainter until it disappeared. The bed was left empty and dark, and tough their combined scent continued in the air, Sam was sure they were gone.

Only then he dared to lower his hand and fist his cock inside of his boxers.

“Do you need help with that?”

Sam opened his eyes with a jolt.

Meg was sitting in his bed, naked and demonic: her skin seemed to have grown patches of black scales and there still horns growing among her hair and her eyes were hollow sockets. Her tail (which he could see now had a triangular pointy end) whipped the air distractedly. When she smiled at him, he saw two rows of very sharp teeth.

Obviously, in their shared mindspace, Meg had no reason to hide her true form. Sam still wished she had worn the skin of the last girl she’d possessed.

“Wimp,” Meg mocked him, and if she’d had eyes, Sam was sure she would be rolling them. But when he looked again, Meg had the face of the girl from Cheboygan. She was still naked, though, and she seemed to have no intentions of doing anything about that.

“Thank you,” Sam sighed. “I’ll… go back to sleep now.”

He rolled over and tried to ignore the fact his cock was still painfully erect.

“You _are_ asleep, Sammy,” Meg reminded him. “The question stands: do you need help with that?”

“Why are you asking me that?” Sam said, cringing. “Don’t you think Castiel would mind?”

“Why? It’s not like it’s _actually_ happening. And besides, we’re friends. You’re being a real trooper about me living in your head and fucking my angel boyfriend in your dreams,” Meg explained. “And you’re so sad I think you sort of deserve to have something nice. I pity you, to be honest.”

“Thanks,” Sam muttered through gritted teeth. “I’m fine.”

“Ah, come on,” Meg insisted. “I’m a good actress. I can impersonate whatever little fantasy you keep hidden in here. Who do you want me to be? Someone famous? That hunter chick you thought was cute? One of your dead girlfriends?”

“That’s disturbing, Meg.”

“Not the least disturbing thing I can do, believe me.” Meg laughed. Her hand came to rest on Sam’s shoulder. “Maybe that’s what you like, huh? Something disturbing to take the edge off?”

Sam felt his cock twitched and grasp unto the sheets. This had to be one of the most messed up things he’d ever considered doing, and he had done plenty of messed up things in his life.

“Well, you don’t have to tell me,” Meg insisted. “I can just find it in your mind library. Let’s see… who is Sam Winchester wishing and dreaming and praying for but would never ever confess out loud?”

Sam’s first panicky thought was that she could never find that out. The second was that of course she was going to find out and it was going to go from awkward to mortifying really fast.

“Wait, no!” he said, sitting up, but it was too late.

Meg wasn’t sitting by his side anymore. Instead, Castiel was, just as naked as she had been. He blinked perplexed and looked down at his hands.

“Well, Sammy. Who would’ve thought? I figured if one of you had a secret crush on the angel it would be your idiot older brother.”

The voice was almost a perfect imitation of Cas’. Of course, he would never ha that mocking undertone and he would never chuckled in that seductive way.

“I can work with this,” she said, leaning over so Cas’ face – Meg’s face was just inches away from Sam’s. Her hand crawled up Sam’s leg. “I know all of his best moves, after all.”

“Stop!”

Sam opened his eyes. He was in his room, alone. He patted his head and pinched the back of his hand to make sure he was awake. When he pushed the sheets aside and planted his feet on the floor, he realized that he was still very much hard.

He groaned to himself and stood up to go to the bathroom.

_There’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know. If someone can understand it, I guess that would be me._

“Can we not talk about this?”

_Well, you’re thinking pretty loudly about it._

“Yeah, because you keep bringing it up,” Sam snapped.

He opened the faucet and washed his face before taking a look in the mirror. His eyes had dark circles underneath them and there was stubble growing on his cheeks and chin. His hair was a mess and he felt dirty. Not because of what Meg had offered to do, but because of what she’d discovered about him.

Castiel was an angel. He was a creature of light and purity, and Sam was… Sam wasn’t even worth thinking about.

 _Come on_ , Meg chuckled in his head. _He might be an angel, but he’s hardly pure. And you heard what he said: you have an aesthetically pleasing body_.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Sam repeated. He opened the shower and threw his boxers on the laundry basket.

_Sam, look at me._

For once, her mocking tone was gone. She sounded serious.

Sam lifted up his eyes to the mirror. Among the fog, he could see the dark, eyeless face that Meg had hidden by possessing pretty girls. She had no nose and no lips, just two serpent like slits and a mouth full of pointy teeth. It was almost a skull, covered in dark scales with horns like those of an ox pointing at the ceiling.

_This is what Castiel’s sees when he looks at me. And he still thinks I’m beautiful. He still thinks I’m worth it. Do you really think that he wouldn’t be the same thing for you?_

“It’s different,” Sam argued, turning away from Meg’s grotesque demon face. “He loves you.”

He stepped underneath the hot water stream and let it fall down his face and shoulders, closing his eyes, letting the drops hit against his tired muscles.

A sudden shiver of pleasure went down his spine and a moan escaped his lips.

His cock, that had softened a little after ignoring it for so long, grew stiff again.

“Meg, stop doing that.”

_You’re very being obtuse about this._

“Really? And what do you propose we do?”

_Well, call me an idealist. But I do believe there’s one way for the three of us to have a happy ending._

Sam didn’t even call her out for that horrible pun. Somehow, it felt like she was touching on all his pleasure centers at the same time. Unable to resist, Sam lowered his hand and grabbed his cock.

_Slow down there, cowboy. Let me do that for you._

Sam lost control of his hands, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Meg stroke him slow and teasingly at first before she began to pump him, picking up a maddening rhythm. It didn’t take long. Sam threw his head back as he cried out. The orgasm shook through him, coming out in white spurts that stained the shower’s wall.

Meg sighed, satisfied.

_You do look so pretty when you come, Sam Winchester._

 

* * *

 

If there was one thing that Sam could admire about Meg, it had to be her persistence.

_Hey, Sam, look over there._

“We already have enough beer, Meg,” Sam answered.

A woman at the end of the aisle looked at him weird and walked away fast. Sam couldn’t blame her. He had got into the bad habit of answering to Meg out loud, even though she could hear him perfectly if he just thought what he wanted to tell her. In the bunker, there was no problem, even though Dean sometimes gave him the stink eye because he didn’t like being reminded that Sam had a demon living in his head. Castiel could hear Meg even when she talked inside of his head, so it wasn’t hard for him to follow their conversations.

But when Sam was in public, like buying groceries or at a bar, it was hard to remember not everyone could hear her interjections, and so it looked a lot like he was talking to himself.

Sam put the coffee he was thinking about purchasing back in the shelf and grabbed the cheaper brand instead.

_That’s nice, but I meant that._

She made him move his head towards the personal hygiene products. Meg would sometimes insist they bought a softer soap or a better tasting toothpaste. But this time, she guided Sam’s eyes to something completely different. It took him a moment to process what she was insinuating.

“Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “We’re not doing that.”

_Why not? Come on, Sammy. Live a little. Fuck an angel._

“We’ve talked about this. It’s not happening.”

 _I’m sure he would be on board if he knew you’re on board, too_ , Meg insisted. _Why are you being such a prude?_

“Meg, I swear…”

He was already standing in front of the products. He didn’t know if Meg had just lead him there or if he had walked himself, too distracted arguing with her to realize what was going on. Either way, at least he was thankful she hadn’t grabbed a handful of them, tossed them in the cart and paid for them before Sam could catch on to what was going on.

_Well, if we’re not going to use them it would be a waste of money._

“Why do you even care, anyway?” Sam asked. “The Darkness is going to take out Crowley if he keeps prodding her. We’re going to solve this. You can have a new meatsuit soon and be with Castiel.”

_You still haven’t figured out this is me trying to do something nice for you?_

“Your idea of something nice is letting me sleep with your boyfriend?”

Someone gasped down the aisle. When he turned, he saw a horrified woman covering her young son’s ears and moving him along quickly. Sam’s cheeks burned and he huffed, hoping that didn’t get him kicked out of the store.

 _Demon_ , Meg reminded him. _We have different standards for ‘nice’. And besides, we’d be doing it together. I don’t mind sharing._

“How would that even work?”

_It’s a crazy world we live in._

That had to be the mental equivalent of a shrug.

Sam sighed. It was tempting. He supposed it was redundant to say that something the literal demon in his head was proposing tempted him, but that was the only way that he could describe it. He had held unto those feelings for so long (and having Meg messing in his head had done nothing to appease them), it almost felt great to have someone telling him it was okay. That there was a way for him to have this.

_You’ve been dealt a pretty shitty hand your entire life, Sammy. You deserve some love._

The way she said it, he’d almost believe her.

The cashier gave him a weird look when he put the bottle of lube (water-based, Meg’s suggestion) and the condoms on the line along with the rest of the groceries. Sam tried his best to ignore it.

 

* * *

 

Castiel showed up the following night. Dean almost seemed irritated to see him.

“What’s the matter? You found out something about the Darkness? Did your angels locate Rowena?”

“No,” Castiel said, and even though those were very urgent matters, he seemed unconcerned for them. “I’m here to see Meg.”

“Oh, of course. You have time to make lovey eyes to your girlfriend, but…”

“Dean,” Sam interrupted him. He stood up, pretty aware it was Meg who was moving him now. “Let’s go somewhere private, Clarence.”

Castiel followed them down the hall. Sam thought they were going to stop there, but Meg confidently opened the door to Sam’s room and they all stepped inside.

Sam could feel his nerves getting to him, but thanks to Meg, his hands were steady when he put them on Castiel’s cheeks to look at him. Castiel didn’t move, his arms hanging lose at both sides of his body.

“What is it? I told you he was on board.”

“I would like to hear it from him, if you don’t mind.”

“You wound me, Clarence.” Meg clicked Sam’s tongue but then she retreated. Sam took a deep breath. He had to talk for himself or Castiel wouldn’t go along with this. He was too respectful for it. “Yes, I want this. I want this, Cas.”

To his surprise, Castiel’s hands hanged unto his shirt and pulled him down.

“Why didn’t you say it sooner?”

Sam didn’t know what to answer to that. Even if he had found the words, he wouldn’t have been able to get them out. Castiel’s mouth crashed against his. His lips were warmth and intoxicating and Sam was paralyzed, not knowing how to respond.

Meg knew, though. She moved his hands to put one on Castiel’s face and lassoed his other arm around the angel’s waist to pull him even closer. The familiar smell of ozone, of the air before a storm invaded Sam’s nostrils and he got dizzy on it, losing himself in the sensation while Meg slid the coat of Castiel’s shoulders and moved to unbutton his shirt.

“Eager,” Castiel chuckled.

“What you want from me, Clarence?” Meg asked. “Oneiric sex is all fine and good. But this is what I’ve been craving.”

Castiel agreed with that idea, if the way he hanged unto Sam’s shirt and pulled it to get rid of it was any indication.

It was a stranger even than Sam had thought it would be. Mostly because he didn’t know anymore who was doing what. His hands were all over Castiel: grabbing unto his hair, caressing his back, fighting to unbuckle his belt. And he didn’t know (and he didn’t care) if it was Meg or him who was doing that.

Castiel pushed them down on the bed and crawled on top of them, straddling them. He placed his lips on his necks and gently suck at their skin.

_Yes!_

“No!”

Castiel immediately moved back and Meg let out a loud curse.

“What is it?” Castiel asked, gently placing his hand on Sam’s cheek to make him look up. “What’s the problem?”

Sam looked away, the embarrassment making him tongue-tied. But Meg wasn’t about to be quiet.

_Oh, you gotta be kidding me. He’s worried Dean will see the hickie._

“It’s going to be really hard to explain, okay?” Sam groaned. “He might think Meg made me do it.”

_I don’t care._

“I do,” Sam argued. “I don’t want him just exorcising you when I’m sleeping or something. You can do whatever you want when you get your own meatsuit.”

Castiel crooked an eyebrow and Meg remained in defying silence.

Sam had thought that perhaps he had killed the mood, but then Meg’s laughter echoed in his skull and Castiel smiled wickedly as he sat up to hover over Sam.

“Well, perhaps… you wouldn’t be opposed to me leaving a mark where Dean isn’t likely to see it,” he commented, sliding his hand down Sam’s chest. Sam shuddered at the touch.

“I… I guess we can do that…” he blurted out.

Castiel’s smile grew wider. He was wearing only white boxers, but Sam still had his jeans on. With expert fingers, Castiel unbuttoned them and pulled them down along with Sam’s underwear just a little bit to expose his hip. He leaned down and gently nibbled at Sam’s skin.

_Come on, Clarence. We can take a little more…_

Meg’s moan felt like an explosion inside of Sam’s head when Castiel sank his teeth on the tender flesh. Sam buckled and screamed out as he grabbed unto the angel’s head, relishing on the feeling of his hot breath on him. Castiel looked up and smiled again satisfied.

 _We’re fucking this angel, right now_ , Meg decided.

Sam didn’t argue.

When Castiel moved up to kiss them again, they grabbed him and rolled with him over the bed. The bed creaked underneath them and Castiel laughed as they left a trail of kisses all over his collarbone. Sam was so busy doing that, in fact, he didn’t even realize that Meg had pulled down both their boxers.

 _This is the advantage of you having big hands, Sasquatch_ , she commented. She held both his and Castiel’s cocks together and pressed. The friction make both of them gasp and Meg laughed, satisfied. _That’s how I like it, boys_.

“I’m glad… you’re enjoying yourself,” Castiel commented, between pants. “I’m sorry, I thought I overheard something about what you wanted to do to me…?”

For the second time, Sam felt his resolution disappearing.

“We don’t have to do that,” he said. “We can just…”

He didn’t know if Castiel pulled him down or if Meg pushed him up, but suddenly he was kissing Castiel again and all of his doubts seemed to melt away. They made a brief pause to really get rid of their boxers and look for the lube and condoms they had bought. Castiel laid on his back on the bed, sprawled out and following every one of their movements with bright blue eyes. His lips were parted in anticipation when they positioned themselves between their legs.

Sam knew, in theory, how this was supposed to go, but he wouldn’t have been nearly as confident if Meg hadn’t been with him to guide him. It was her who uncapped the lube, squirted a generous amount in their fingers and then, without any sort of warning, moved Castiel’s open and pushed inside of him. The angel bucked and arched his back. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down with a sob that startled Sam.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Castiel assured them, panting heavily. “Yes… I can take a little bit more…”

He interrupted himself to moan when Meg started moving Sam’s fingers, curling them and massaging Castiel’s sweet spot. There had to be something blasphemous about it, Sam thought as Castiel squirmed and breathed out curses. This has to be some sort of sacrilege.

_And what of it? Isn’t that what’s fun about this?_

Of course she would think like that.

Sam felt his skin covered hot and sticky, his blood almost boiling in his veins. But even though Castiel’s neck was flushed, he hadn’t broken a sweat. Meg seemed decided to change that. She added a third fingers and moved until Castiel screamed out loud.

“Meg,” he muttered. “Sam… please…”

Meg was already reaching for the condoms, but Sam stopped her.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Castiel assured them. “Please… I want this…”

He didn’t have to tell Meg twice. Sam thought she was being a little forceful, but then again, he was so overcome with what was going on, so eager that he couldn’t stop her. Castiel didn’t care at all. He groaned as they pushed into him and wrapped his legs around their waist. They leaned over to kiss him and slowly picked up a rhythm. Sam stopped every time they thrust in to check in with Cas, who continued to assure them he was fine, kissed back every time their lips met and hang onto their shoulders and back so tight Sam was sure they would have a bruise with the shape of his hand when all of this was over.

But when the scent of rain became stronger, when Castiel’s skin began glowing warm and silver under their fingertips, Sam got completely lost in the feelings. Meg took the reins, pumping their hips rougher and faster, letting the tension build up in their lower stomach until the overwhelming waves of pleasure drowned out everything else.

They close their eyes and hid their face on Castiel neck. Their fingers stroke Castiel’s cock until he too shivered and screamed out. His skin became almost too hot to the touch and Sam was sure they would have burned if it wasn’t because of Meg’s demonic resistance.

They stayed there, their chests heaving and their hearts pounding fast. Even Meg had gone quiet for the moment, but Sam could feel a deep satisfaction in the back of his head, almost like a happy purring, that he was sure came from her. He closed his eyes and he would have drifted off if Castiel hadn’t tapped him in the shoulder.

“Sorry,” Sam muttered, hurriedly moving aside.

“It’s fine, Sam.”

“Oh, no.” Sam looked down and cringed. “We’re a mess. I’m sorry. I’ll bring some towels…”

Castiel waved his hand almost distractedly. When Sam looked again, both them and the sheets were clean.

“Would you relax?” Castiel asked.

_Yeah, Sam. Weren’t you the one who didn’t want Dean to find out? What would he say if he saw you coming out of the room on woobly legs and a hickie on your side?_

The image was so ridiculous that Sam couldn’t hold back a smile. Castiel also chuckled and relaxed against the pillows. The bed seemed almost too small for the both of them, but when Sam snuggled closer to him, the angel put a hand around his shoulders and pulled him.

It was a strange sensation. Sam was so tall that no one had that sort of protective gestures towards him. He couldn’t say he didn’t like it.

 _Oh, now you’re gonna tell me you’d like to be the little spoon_ , Meg commented.

“Everyone likes to be the little spoon,” Castiel argued. “It makes you feel protected.”

“You two are ridiculous,” Sam complained, hiding his face on the pillow.

Castiel’s chest rumbled with laughter and so did Meg’s voice in his head.

 

* * *

 

He was dreaming again.

He couldn’t tell what exactly had given it away. Perhaps that he had never seen a night so blue or stars so bright above his head. He wondered if constellations were like faces, if this was a night he had seen once and forgot about. He was walking barefoot on grass that was impossibly soft, on a field that was completely plane except for a single solitary hill. There was a large oak tree growing on top of it, with thousands of fireflies on its branches, lightning it up like it was Christmas. Sam approached the hill without any rush. Somehow, he knew who he was going to find there.

Meg and Castiel were sitting underneath the tree. For a change, the two were dressed and wearing their human skins. Castiel had removed his coat and his tie and hanged them from the branch right above. He had his back against the trees’ trunk and a peaceful expression in his blue eyes as he watched the fireflies coming and going. Meg was lying down with her head on the angel’s lap, her eyes closed in pleasure as Castiel toyed with her hair.

“Are you guys here for real?” Sam asked.

“Do you think I would have a dream as boring as this?” Meg replied, moving a little to glance at him.

Sam guessed that was enough of an answer.

“Sit down, Sam,” Castiel invited him. “It’s a beautiful night.”

It was true. As Sam left his body slide down against the tree. He leaned against Castiel, knowing that the angel would be strong enough to handle the weight of his body. Castiel stretched his hand to hold Sam’s and squeezed it tight.

And three of them stayed in silence, gazing at the stars Sam almost remembered.


End file.
